


First Words

by PalestAzure



Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-12
Updated: 2020-01-12
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:28:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22219336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PalestAzure/pseuds/PalestAzure
Summary: Din Djarin and the Child are now safe travelling after the aftermath on Nevarro. They have some time to themselves as a clan of two, and Djarin begins questioning an aspect of his creed.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 83





	First Words

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place a day after the events of Season 1.

The vast quietness of space was a welcome relief after the fight on Nevarro against Moff Gideon and his Imperial remnant, whom Djarin believed to be dead. Djarin sat in the cockpit of the Razor Crest, his focus on the emptiness beyond his vision. He was uncertain of where he and the Child were headed, but that was something he would worry about at a later time. The Guild was no longer on the hunt for them. They were safe for the time being. The Child now travelled alongside him as his foundling in their clan of two, as the new mudhorn signet on his armor explicitly symbolized. 

As the ship was only inhabited by the two of them, the silence was both relaxing and haunting, and it led his thoughts to Kuiil. He had given his last words to his friend after burying him. There was a part of Djarin that had wished he could have prevented Kuiil’s death. But there was also an unwavering sense of gratitude at the thought of his friend’s sacrifice, as he promised to himself that Kuiil’s death would not go in vain. 

While Djarin piloted the ship deep in thought, there was a gentle cooing that he had become to easily recognize as the Child sleeping. That innocent sound signaled him to turn his chair around to view the Child, who was strapped in his seat but also very much fast asleep. They had been traveling for about a day, and with them having been constantly on the go as they were being hunted, the Child deserved time to rest without any concerns. His large brown eyes were fully closed and covered by eyelids of the same green hue of his skin, which created a consistent tone across his oval-shaped face. His head tilted to the left and rested against his left shoulder, his elongated and pointy ear squished between both. Each of his limbs were relaxed and still, as they gently poked out from his brown outfit that covered his tiny body. 

Djarin followed his usual routine of putting down the Child in the same spot in the secret hatch below the cockpit. Before closing the hatch, he couldn’t yet look away. He stood there watching the Child closely and wondering what they were to do now as they moved forward as their clan of two. As he intently concentrated on the child, his helmet continued performing its function. This time, it hid his own smile. 

After closing the hatch, he headed to his quarters and began removing each piece of armor, hanging them with great care on the mounts on the wall until he was left in his pants, undershirt, and helmet. When he finally pulled off the helmet, he set it on top of his bed, next to a single pillow. He slowly moved around the small space and stopped in front of a mirror with a metal sink below it. He braced both sides of the sink, dropped his head, closed his eyes, and began inhaling and exhaling in regular, equal amounts. With one final deep exhale, he turned on the water and looked up. The face that stared back at him through the mirror was only that of a man, not of the enigma of the Mandalorian. His entire head of brown hair was disheveled with strands stuck along his sweat-filled forehead. Dark circles nestled under his eyes, and slight stubble hinted along the length of his jawline, cheeks and upper lip. He splashed some of the cold water on his face and then ran some of his wet fingers through his hair. 

He grabbed a towel and began patting his face while turning around. The moment he dropped his towel from his face he immediately rose it back up, not for him to continue drying, but to hide. The Child was sitting on top of his helmet and staring in his direction.

“How did you--?” Djarin began to ask from behind the towel, questioning to himself of how much the Child actually saw of his face. “You can’t be in here,” he stated in his usual calm tone whenever speaking directly to his foundling. The Child only blinked as Djarin turned his back on him. He mentally counted to ten before he turned around and peaked from a slit between the folds of the towel. 

The Child was gone. 

A sigh escaped from behind the towel as the tension in his muscles began to relax. He dropped the towel on his bed and locked his eyes on the helmet. “This is the way.” He nodded in reassurance of his creed, while taking his helmet in both hands. He turned back around towards the sink, but saw the Child now standing on its rim and staring back at him through the mirror. Djarin’s foundling raised his little arm and placed its hand on the reflection of Djarin’s face. The Child cooed happily with an open-mouth smile as it touched Djarin’s reflection.

Djarin shook his head and quickly pulled his helmet over his head. The happy expression on the Child’s face instantly faded. His eyes and mouth were downturned as he became quiet. The Mandalorian went to pick up his foundling and held him against him.

“You can’t do that either.”

The Child looked up and saw his own reflection in the beskar of the helmet. He then began to tilt its head downward, trying to peek under the helmet. Djarin reflexively drew his head back, but the Child reached out, trying to lift the helmet with his three-fingered hands. 

“Don’t touch this.” His voice was carefully controlled.

The hands stopped moving on the helmet. A slight murmur came from the Child, his saddened eyes trying desperately to see through the heavily tinted T-shaped visor in hopes to see any part of the face of the Mandalorian. It may have been the look in the Child’s eyes or the fact that the Child had already seen most of his face, but Djarin released the tension in his shoulders and sighed.  
  
“Go ahead.”  
  
The Child’s eyes now shined as he tilted his head sideways and smiled. He pushed up on the helmet, exposing the lower half of Djarin’s face. Djarin felt his foundlings fingers press against his chin.

“ _This_.” The Child shakily spoke the word in a soft and innocent tone. “ _Way_.” He patted Djarin’s chin a few times between the utterance of both words.

Djarin’s widened eyes could see the Child through the vertical portion of the visor. Everything around him faded as all he could hear was the Child’s words replaying in his mind. He could feel the little fingers searching along his chin, and for the first time, the Child witnessed the smile from behind the helmet. But he could not see how the smile reached the Mandalorian’s eyes. 

“That’s enough.” Djarin pulled his helmet fully back on and laid his foundling on the pillow of his bed. 

“Ok. You can stay here. But no more touching the helmet.” He pointed a reprimanding finger at the Child, who only cooed back with glee. His eyes soon slowly started to close until he was finally fast asleep. The Mandalorian sat on the edge of the bed and watched over his foundling. 

_Is this a new way?_ Djarin mentally asked himself. Perhaps the Child was trying to tell him it was in his first words. A smile stretched across his face, the one only his new family had ever witnessed. 

  
  



End file.
